His Abductor, Unconventional
by lostlikeme
Summary: AU. Rich kid Ciel Phantomhive is kidnapped from his school to be held for ransom by one hell of an abductor. Things don't go according to plan. Warning for omorashi.


The gentleman who pulls up beside the private middle school in a black stretch limo is not Ciel Phantomhive's usual driver. This, in itself, is not abnormal, so the daft child doesn't consider the peculiarity of the situation until forty-five minutes into a half hour commute. The runt wipes his palms on his navy trousers and delivers three sharp raps against the privacy window while the color drains from the sky. Sebastian expected complaint sooner, before the houses became spaced far apart and the trees started to swallow them whole.

"Pull over," Ciel demands with unshakable confidence. His voice has yet to crack. "I've got to _go_."

This is exactly what Sebastian has always detested about jobs involving children. Whether proffered or poor, they always manage to make a complete nuisance of themselves. That, and how painstakingly tedious it is to sedate them.

"I'm not going to pull over," Sebastian answers without a backwards glance. Humans this small are respectively immature, and Sebastian has found that sometimes the quickest way to kill a kid is also the most honest one. "I'm going to take you to the drop point and collect my reward."

The lack of hesitation paints Ciel six shades of shocked. "Excuse me?" he says, flabbergasted. He looks like perhaps he's never been denied anything in his entire short life. "Am I being kidnapped?"

Sebastian's eyes flash crimson when he makes an illegal left hand turn. "It appears that way, doesn't it?"

Ciel unclips the seat belt, slides the glass panel swiftly open, and crosses his arms. Sebastian isn't sure he's ever seen an expression that smug on someone under thirty years old. "Whatever you're getting paid, my father can double it," the boy insists with utter confidence.

Although it makes Sebastian laugh, the pitch in his voice never wavers. "What a generous offer for a nine-year-old." Sebastian licks his lips. "An orphaned nine-year-old."

The sneer slips from Ciel's face and his eyebrow twitches. "I'm twelve and a half," he protests seriously. His parents have only been dead for two years.

Sebastian lets him have it. "Of course you are."

The silence that ensues is brief but poignant. Ciel shuffles around, shifts his weight, and knocks his knees against the back of his chair. He has very limited options and even less to offer in lieu of bargaining. Interestingly enough, where Sebastian imagined tears, he finds only contempt. Despite himself, Sebastian wants to play with his prey, the same as any cat.

"Fine," Ciel announces suddenly. "Since you won't pull over..." He looks at Sebastian sideways and smiles viciously. "Then I can't be blamed for what's about to happen to your car."

He maintains careful eye contact with Sebastian through the rear-view mirror and releases the hold on his bladder without flinching. His navy trousers darken and the smell of urine spirals into the air. When it soaks through to the upholstery the Phantomhive brat makes a show of opening his thighs to spread it across the seat. Sebastian can feel his blood heating to a boil. This is less about the destruction of property and more about the blatant disrespect. Sebastian refuses to allow his voice to betray his feelings.

"Did you know venetian leather was developed in Brompton, and that it is still one of the most unique leathers produced today?"

"That's absolute rubbish," Ciel complains, kicking up his feet. "You wouldn't know real venetian leather if you rubbed it against your bare arse."

Sebastian takes careful consideration before pulling into the parking lot of a neglected diner. The child locks prevent Ciel from escaping while he fetches cleaning supplies from the trunk. Although Ciel isn't the first person to pee in his car, he is the first to do so out of spite. For all his effort the little twerp just manages to look transparently defensive. Nightfall doesn't become apparent behind the tinted windows until Sebastian shifts into the back seat.

Ciel shrieks when Sebastian reaches for his shoulder. By now the brat can feel the frozen, unyielding flesh behind the gloves. "You're a total psychopath!" he screams. Sebastian can feel his own pupils expand until his eyes are deeper than the east end of a pool. "...are you even human?"

"Guilty as charged." Sebastian smiles shamelessly, showing several rows of razor sharp teeth. "I've been told I'm one hell of an abductor."

Ciel seems truly shaken for the first time. He swallows and makes a valiant effort of straightening his posture. "You don't feel anything, do you?"

"Of course I have feelings," Sebastian says with a sigh. "You abominable child. And you're going to regret pissing mine off."

Even with considerable self-control, Sebastian finds it difficult not to strike the rebellious look from the child's face. He extends his arm and grabs him by the back of the throat like a scruffed puppy instead. Usually, Sebastian makes it a habit not to eat at work and not to play with his food. Today he breaks all the rules, jumping at the chance to treat the privileged brat like a scolded dog.

Real fear works its way into Ciel's only visible eye when Sebastian shoves his face into the stained leather. "Okay!" Ciel concedes, mouth inches from the mess he made. "I'm sorry!"

"Are you certain?" His fingers twitch around Ciel's delicate throat. Sebastian wants to hear him beg and see him work for it, but it's too much too soon. This is merely the beginning of a very long game. "Are you prepared to take responsibility?"

When Sebastian releases him he squirms to the far corner of the car to wipe at his damp cheeks. He looks like he's never cleaned anything in his entire life. His lip wobbles and there's a tremor in his tone but his eyes are remarkably dry. Sebastian can't help but tease him once he's bent to work.

"I recall your mention of wanting to feel the value of real venetian leather against your bare arse."

Ciel freezes when Sebastian touches his back, following the curve of his spine through his uniform vest and collared shirt. He slides his hands loosely around Ciel's hips to undo the button and zip of his pants. Black nails curl around the hem of his underwear while Ciel struggles to maintain composure and clean the upholstery as he was instructed.

"You know that's not what I meant," Ciel mutters, trying to push Sebastian's arms away without success. "You…" He struggles to find words for the way Sebastian is sizing him up. His fingers crumple the paper towel bunched in his hands. "You're a pedophile," he manages at last.

Sebastian quirks his lips and raises his eyebrows. "Oh, is this because of your erection?"

When Sebastian yanks his pants down Ciel finds that it's true. Behind his soiled underwear his prick was rising to reach his belly. Sebastian forces him to sit down on a towel, red faced and trembling. He hides his head and mumbles dejectedly into his arms. When Sebastian doesn't respond he lifts his head with a huff.

"I _said_ -are you still taking me to the drop off?"

Sebastian runs his hands through his hair, taking joy in Ciel's trepidation. "I'll be taking you to my house instead."

"Your house!" his voice splits with fear. "For what?"

The thought pushes at the far reaches of Ciel's imagination. Some might see his naivete as boring, but Sebastian is increasingly charmed by the way he is bound by such a strong moral code.

"You called me a pedophile," Sebastian reminds him. "Your guess is as good as mine."

He makes a show of leaning over Ciel's exposed lap to buckle him in. Ciel stiffens, his entire body rigid until Sebastian retreats and takes his old position in the driver's seat.

"Of course, that depends…" Sebastian amends as he pulls out of the parking lot. "How much did you say you could pay me?"

Ciel straightens and Sebastian smiles at the show of strength through the rear view mirror. In ten years, he'll be a force to be reckoned with, but for right now, he is completely at his mercy. This child has better business finesse than most of his clients. When he speaks his tone is firm and formal, verbose and practiced.

"Although I can't make a payment like that outright, my family can offer you a rather attractive employment package."

"Perfect," Sebastian agrees, taciturn. "Why don't I go ahead and draw up a contract?"


End file.
